Little Rainbows

by Helena Stone

  Heather turned around and smiled at Amber. “It’s not a problem. I’ll go.”

  Amber’s face was a mixture of relief and confusion. “You’ll go? Are you sure? You haven’t committed to Jason. You would do that for him?”

  “I’ve been submitting to him for the past ten days.” Heather smiled. “And I know Rogan. I don’t like the man. It will be my pleasure to spoil whatever his agenda is.”

  Oh yes. It would piss him off. He’d be disappointed when a submissive showed up for Jason, since he didn’t expect one. He’d be livid to see her—the woman he’d been trying to claim—on her knees at Jason’s feet.

  “How long have we got to get ready?”

  “Only about half an hour.” The girl still looked worried.

  “It will be okay, Amber. I know what I’m doing. I’ll meet you at the back door in twenty-five minutes. We’ll go there together.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  The young sub visibly relaxed when Heather nodded.

  Heather stared at the door Amber had just closed. She could do this. She’d been here before. Not with Jason, but still. She just had to be quick about her preparations. She smirked. Which was just as well since it wouldn’t leave her time to worry about what she was about to do.

  She stalked into the bathroom and got to work. Heavier make-up, bigger eyes, her hair straightened to within an inch of its life. She took a minute to study her reflection. She hadn’t seen this version of herself in two years and wasn’t quite sure how she felt about being forced into this reunion. She didn’t mind going the full distance for Jason.

  The thought stopped her for a moment. She really didn’t mind. In fact, she looked forward to him seeing her like this. She couldn’t wait to kneel at his feet in public, even if she would have preferred to do it on her own terms, at a time of her choosing. And she didn’t have time for these reflections. Less than ten minutes left before she had to meet Amber.

  Opening the wardrobe, she smiled. She’d felt foolish when she’d packed her sexier outfits when she returned to The Blowhole. Now she didn’t feel silly at all. The green, no-bra-required, mini dress was exactly what she needed. Her G-string matched the dress and the pattern on her heels was the same color. The mirror told her all she needed to know. She looked sexy. The dress hugged and accentuated her curves. The deep V-neck covered little besides her nipples and the dress was so short parts of her arse would be exposed once she knelt down. She just needed one final touch.

  She allowed the feeling of sorrow to run through her for just a moment. She hadn’t worn this for a long time. She remembered when Darren had bought it for her and could still hear his words.

  “I’ll never collar you, Heather. You’re my wife. You’re wearing my ring. I know you’re mine. You’ll only wear this when we’re meeting people who don’t know us.”

  Her fingers rubbed the soft material of the green collar, allowing her mind to travel back to the times when Darren had secured it around her neck.

  When she looked into the mirror she grinned. Darren would have gotten a kick out of her doing this. He’d detested Rogan and he would have liked Jason if he’d ever met him. This was the sort of idea he would have come up with. He’d always enjoyed outsmarting others and she knew, without a doubt, he would have been proud of her for making this decision.

  “I love you, Darren.” She whispered the words. “I’ll always love you, but I’m ready to follow your advice. I’m moving on.”

  Heather couldn’t help laughing when she met Amber at the back door.

  “Were you watching me when I picked my clothes?”

  The redhead looked glorious in a dress the exact same tint of red as her hair. It was also the same style as Heather’s, for the second time since they’d met.

  Amber visibly relaxed when she saw Heather. “You are beautiful.”

  “As are you.” Heather smiled. “Come on, let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”

  A line of subs waited outside the room the Doms had been meeting in for over an hour now. Heather allowed her gaze to drift over all of them and marveled at the similarities. All male subs were wearing tight black leather trousers and little else besides their collars. The females all wore different versions of the same dress. She allowed her gaze to linger on the young girl who’d arrived with Rogan. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the girl felt off, as if she didn’t belong. Heather couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. It was so clear she was nervous. If she was a day over twenty, Heather would eat her panties. Heather let it go. Whatever the problem was, it wasn’t her business. She had other things to worry about.

  Karl opening the door interrupted Heather’s thoughts and she hurried to take her place at the end of the line. The manager’s voice was loud and clear.

  “You’re to come in one at a time and make your way to your Dom.”

  She saw the surprise on his face when he recognized her and she smiled at him. As the line began to move, she straightened her back, lifted her head and looked down. She could do this.

  * * * *

  Jason had to work hard to keep the frown off his face. As luck would have it, every single Dom and Domme in this room had a committed sub to kneel at their feet. It wasn’t the end of the world, but he didn’t like the idea of standing out as the only person left on his own once this procession was over. Rogan wanted to undermine him, that much was clear. And while he’d no desire to fight Rogan for his perceived position in the Irish BDSM community, he didn’t want to give the man an easy opportunity to steer potential clients away from The Blowhole either.

  Part of him was proud anybody would see him as a threat to their authority—perceived or otherwise—but Jason hated having to concede this round to the man he had taken an instant dislike to. A dislike that had turned into something far stronger as soon as he’d addressed Heather. Jason still wished he’d spoken up there and then. It had felt wrong not to jump in and defend the woman, but there was no official commitment. She submitted to him, yes, but she wasn’t his submissive. He’d known she wouldn’t thank him if he’d interfered, and their talk afterwards had proven him right. Even being sure he’d done what she’d wanted him to do didn’t make him feel any better about not having been able to speak up for her.

  He watched as one by one the subs entered the room. The envy he felt every time a sub knelt at his or her Dom’s feet surprised him. He’d never wanted a committed sub. Once, years ago, he’d collared a girl, only to discover six months later that he wasn’t made for an exclusive relationship. Right now though, or rather, since Heather had entered his life…

  This wasn’t the moment to think about Heather or what he wanted with her, from her.

  Jason resented the smirk Rogan sent his way when the young trainee sub knelt at her Dom’s feet.

  The room filled up. Just a few Doms were still waiting for their subs. Of course, one of them would still be waiting after the door closed again. It ate at him. Not just because he hated Rogan for making him the odd Dom out. He wanted what the others had. The bond and intimacy he’d always thought he didn’t need, were suddenly something he craved.

  Amber walked through the door and moved across the room, displaying all her natural grace. When she knelt at Hector’s feet, she winked at her Master before glancing at him. Anger flashed through Jason. Did the girl not realize the seriousness of the situation? And why on earth hadn’t Karl closed the door yet? He turned toward the door, opened his mouth to order his manager into action and stopped breathing.

  She was beautiful. Her hair fell straight down her back. The green dress displayed her beauty to its fullest advantage. And around her neck, he didn’t believe what he saw, a collar? She didn’t look up, didn’t glance to her left or right, just put one foot in front of the other until she reached his chair.

  “Sir.”

  The whisper barely reached his ears as she knelt down and rested her head against his knee.

  It hit him like a bullet. He lov
ed her. He’d been trying to deny it for days, but he knew. This woman, strong and independent, yet willing to submit to him. She was clever. She was more than his equal and happy to sit at his feet.

  “Heather?” Rogan’s voice was cold and filled with disbelief. “You’re kneeling at this man’s feet?” The Dom all but pushed his sub to the floor as he jumped from his chair. “You turn me down when I offer you my dominance and submit to him?”

  Jason put his hand on Heather’s neck, fully expecting to feel tension and not finding it. Her smile when she looked up at him lifted his heart. She wasn’t sacrificing herself. She did this because she wanted to.

  “I’m talking to you, sub.”

  Rogan’s voice broke through his thoughts, but Jason didn’t miss the lift of Heather’s eyebrow before he turned to face the Dom who stalked toward them.

  “What would Darren say if he saw you now? You think he’d like to see you prostituting yourself for this wannabe?”

  Rogan’s gaze flew around the room, looking for support and finding nothing but embarrassment from those who knew him and anger from everybody else.

  Heather still hadn’t acknowledged Rogan. He admired the way she’d completely ignored the man’s remarks, as if they weren’t directed at her.

  “May I, Sir?” Her voice was soft and confident.

  “Of course, beautiful. On you go.”

  Admiration flooded him as Heather stood up and turned to face Rogan, who was almost on top of them now.

  “Darren,” she said, her voice cold and calm, “would congratulate me for finding a good Dom to submit to.” She paused to consider her next words. “You seem to be forgetting that submission is a gift, not a right. I could only submit to a man I trust completely. You are not that man—could never be him.”

  Anger and admiration fought a battle in Jason’s head. Heather took his breath away. Her calm and her certainty in the face of this angry and, Jason couldn’t deny it, rather intimidating Dom, were beautiful to behold. He wanted to grab and kiss her, claim her in front of all these witnesses. But he held back. This was her moment. He had to deal with Rogan though. This madness had to stop. If Rogan couldn’t accept Heather would never be his, he’d have to leave. It was that simple.

  Jason watched closely as emotions chased each other across Rogan’s face. Surprise transformed into fury before a cold and deadly calm settled on Rogan’s features.

  “You can’t talk to me like that. You’re a sub. Didn’t Darren teach you to show proper respect to your betters?”

  The smile on Heather’s face was made of steel. “To my betters?” She smirked. “Darren taught me there is no such thing as my betters. He told me to show respect to those who deserve it. People have to earn my respect before I’ll grant it. And you…” Fury shone from her eyes. “You lost any respect I may have had for you when you decided you could claim me.”

  Rogan’s face twisted in anger. “Be careful what you say, girl. You may have knelt at his feet”—Rogan threw a contemptuous glare in Jason’s direction—“but I know you didn’t formally submit to him. That’s not his collar. I’ve seen it before. No self-respecting Dom would allow his sub to wear another man’s collar. When this weekend is over and you come back to Dublin, you’ll be alone. And after this performance, you’ll stay alone. None of us would touch you with a bargepole.”

  “That’s enough.” Jason jumped in before Heather could respond. “Rogan, we need to talk. Either here, with an audience, or just the three of us. It’s up to you. I won’t have you behave like this in my club, especially not toward the woman who knelt at my feet. Make your choice.”

  “What? You’re going to throw me out?” Rogan glared at Jason. “You come to Ireland, open a club and expect all of us to just accept you? I’ve earned my position. I’ve trained and mentored most of these people. You’re nothing.”

  Without taking his eyes off Rogan, Jason was aware of people leaving the room. Some stared at him and Rogan, while others seemed to go out of their way to ignore them. Jason’s heart sank. This was the sort of situation he’d hoped to avoid. Here he was in a battle of wills with the self-proclaimed leader of the Irish BDSM community. He didn’t want that position. He wasn’t interested in power. This weekend’s only purpose was to introduce his club to potential Irish customers. Somehow he had to get back on track.

  He waited until the last of the Doms had left with their subs before turning to Rogan. Grasping what little patience he had left, Jason took a deep breath.

  “No. I’m not kicking you out. I’d like to, but it wouldn’t serve any purpose. I’ve no idea why you see me as a threat. I’m not. All I want is to run my resort successfully. I believe I’ve got something good, something special here. I thought you and the other lifestylers in Ireland might be interested, might want to spend time here. I’m not after you position, whatever that may be.”

  Rogan’s expression showed nothing except disbelief and distrust.

  “If you want to stay, you’re more than welcome to.”

  The distrust on Rogan’s face turned into surprise.

  “On one condition.”

  “I knew it.” Rogan sneered. “Of course there is a condition. Tell me. What’s your price?”

  “You’re going to leave Heather alone.” Jason reached out and wrapped his arm around the woman who would never cease to amaze him. “She’s made it perfectly clear she is not interested in your offer.”

  Jason had to stop himself for a moment. Offer my arse. The Dublin Dom had tried to order her into submission.

  “If you’re half as good a Dom as you claim to be, you know submission is a gift. We don’t claim it. Our submissives grant us the honor of their submission if they so desire and on their terms.”

  Jason looked at Rogan’s face, trying to determine whether anything he’d said had gotten through to the man. He thought some of the anger had disappeared from the man’s eyes but couldn’t be sure. When Rogan turned his head and fixed his gaze on Heather, every muscle in Jason’s body tensed.

  “What gives you the right to talk for her?” Rogan’s words still sounded hostile but most of the fury had disappeared from his voice. “She may have knelt at your feet, but I know she isn’t yours any more than she is mine. Show me a contract between the two of you and I’ll step back.”

  Heather pressed her body closer to his and Jason knew, without looking at her, that she wanted to jump into the conversation. He squeezed her softly and hoped she’d understand he wanted her to stay quiet for a little while longer.

  “You’re right. I haven’t formally collared her. But she chose to kneel at my feet. That on its own gives me the right. But even if that wasn’t the case, this is my club. I expect my guests to respect each other and my staff, regardless of their standing. Safe, sane and consensual. You know those rules as well as I do. There is nothing consensual about trying to bully someone into submitting. And I won’t allow behavior like that in my club.”

  Rogan’s gaze shifted to Heather again. “You’ve made your choice then? You’re sure you don’t want everything I can offer you?”

  Jason couldn’t stop himself from worrying. Common sense told him what Heather’s answer would be, but a small part of him was convinced Heather might be better off walking away from him.

  “Yes, Rogan, I’ve made my choice.” Heather’s voice was soft and calm. “I told you when you first approached me. I have no desire to submit to you. I don’t want to fight with you either, so please, just accept what I’m saying and don’t ask me again. I’d like to think Jason and I organized a wonderful weekend. Stay. Enjoy it. And reserve your judgment of Jason’s character and resort until Sunday.”

  Silence settled in the room as Rogan contemplated Heather’s words. Jason stared at him in an effort to determine what might be going on in the man’s head. It wasn’t about the weekend anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to worry about the future of his resort. All that mattered was Heather and her peace of mind. If Rogan couldn’t agree to leave H
eather alone, Jason would tell him to leave. If that meant the whole of the Dublin crowd left with him, so be it.

  Rogan’s features relaxed. He didn’t look happy, but the anger had disappeared completely to be replaced with a look Jason would have liked to call admiration if he didn’t think that was too optimistic.

  “Fair enough. I won’t approach you again. It’s a shame though.” The Dom’s mouth curved into a wry smile. “You’ve just displayed all the reasons I wanted you to submit to me. I’ve admired you for a long time. Whoever you end up submitting to, whether it’s him”—he nodded his head in Jason’s direction—“or someone else, he’ll be a lucky man.”

  For the first time since Rogan’s outburst, Jason relaxed, only for the tension to return when Rogan turned to him.

  “Thank you for giving me the option to stay. I’m not sure I would have done the same, in your position. I’ll take you up on it. And I look forward to fully exploring your facilities.”

  Jason waited until Rogan had left the room before pulling Heather into his arms and devouring her mouth.

  “You were magnificent.” He emphasized his words with another kiss. “But now we need to talk.” Jason looked at the collar around Heather’s neck and stroked it. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Let me look at you.” Jason’s voice felt like a caress across her skin. He held her hands, standing two arm lengths away, while he slowly looked her over from tip to toe. His gaze came to rest on her neck. “A collar?”

  “What’s wrong? You don’t like my collar?”

  He dropped one of her hands and stepped closer to touch the velvet around her neck. “I love your collar, but…”

  Suddenly she got it.

  “It’s not Darren’s collar, Jason.” She smiled. “Well, in a way it is, but Darren never collared me. He didn’t think he needed to. He said the wedding ring was the only collar he needed on me. We only used this when we played in public.”